The Peepee DanceMatt Seinberg

I work with many interesting people. One said the other day, while waiting for a customer; "I'm doing the peepee dance. I have to go so badly, but I can't just ignore those people." My answer was that if you gotta go, you gotta go. I really don't want to watch you do the peepee dance.

Let's face it, that's happened to all of us at one time or another. The urgency of having to urinate so badly that your back teeth are floating, you're dancing from one foot to another, hoping that no one will notice, and clenching yourself so tightly that you can't walk.

Yeah, right, like no one would ever notice that. Just go already.

My worst experience was a number of years ago when I was going to visit my radio friend, Steve Warren, at his studio in Long Island City, New York. Normally the ride would only take me 30 minute from Nassau Country. This time it would take me 60 minutes.

I stopped at Dunkin' Donuts for coffee and donut and got on the highway. There was traffic on the Northern Parkway, so I jumped on the Long Island Expressway hoping for better luck. No way, the traffic was worse. I was beginning to regret that coffee.

I was fine until I hit the Queens Center Mall exit, when I started to do the sitting-in-the-car-peepee-dance. My teeth were swimming. I was clenching so hard I couldn't sit still. I truly thought that I might have to pee in the coffee cup, but there was no maneuvering room.

Finally, I got to my exit, sped to the parking garage and let it fly into the cup. It felt so good to let go after having to wait half an hour. I thought I was going to die. My breathing slowed down and I felt normal again. When I got upstairs, I did use the men's room to wash my hands before I got to Steve's office.

The funniest thing ever is watching a little kid do the peepee dance. He or she is trying to tell his parents that he or she has to go now. For whatever reason, they're ignoring the kid, until you see the look of relief on his or her face, and big stain forming on their clothing. Then the parent notices, gets mad and drags them off to the bathroom to change them. Serves them right, I say, for ignoring all the signs.

I was in Home Depot once with Michelle and she had to be about five. I was almost done when she told me she had to go to the bathroom. I asked if she could hold it, bathrooms at Home Depot are disgusting. I told her if she could hold on, I'd buy her lunch at Taco Bell. She quickly agreed. I guess she didn't have to go that bad.

We were in Taco Bell about 15 minutes later, and she ran to the bathroom before we even ordered our food. At least she was able to hold it.

Ever since I had my prostate operation, my urgency to go happens very quickly, and I don't have time to even think about it. No peepee dance for me, I'll find my way to the bathroom so fast you'll see a cloud of dust under my feet. Don't try to keep up with me at that point, I'm moving to fast.

Oh what a relief it is!

Matt Seinberg lives on Long Island, a few minutes east of New York City. He looks at everything around him and notices much. Somewhat less cynical than dyed in the wool New Yorkers, Seinberg believes those who don't see what he does
like reading about what he sees and what it means to him. Seinberg columns revel in the silly little things of life and laughter as well as much well-directed anger at inept, foolish public officials. Mostly, Seinberg writes for those who laugh easily at their own foibles as well as those of others.